


Code 314

by terminallybored



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Car Sex (sort of), Established Relationship, Hopper is not paid enough for this shit, M/M, Public indecency, Season 2-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22822342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terminallybored/pseuds/terminallybored
Summary: The story of Billy’s least favorite arrest for indecent exposure ever. And it’s all Steve’s fault.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 11
Kudos: 196
Collections: Harringrove Week of Love





	Code 314

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Harringrove Week of Love- Day 3: Car Sex

There’s only one interrogation room in the Hawkins police station. That means Billy is left handcuffed to Jim Hopper’s desk while Steve is in the interrogation room. It’s dark in the station, aside from the yellow light framing the shade over the interrogation room window, and the lamp on Hopper’s desk. Fucking small towns. This is, without a doubt, the most unprofessional arrest Billy has ever had. 

Hopper emerges from the interrogation room and slams the door behind him. No Steve. Billy expects Hopper will sit down and pick up his phone and call Mommy and Daddy Harrington to come pick up their kid. Then it will be up to Billy to deal with whatever the fallout is. Hopefully Hopper didn’t make Harrington cry or anything, so Billy can still sort of respect him after.

Hopper does not reach for his phone.

No, he throws his hat on the desk and drops down into the chair hard enough that it scoots back several inches on the wooden floor. Folds an arm on the desk and leans in close to Billy, looking him square in the eye. He looks tired and sort of pissed. 

“Steve Harrington is a goddamn pain in the ass.”

“I know the feeling.” Billy has worn that look many a time, and exclusively from dealing with Steve. He can actually kind of sympathize with the cops on this one. “But if what he told you sounds like bullshit, he’s being straight with you this time.”

“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” Hopper picks up his clipboard where there’s a mostly blank form for citations. Only the top is filled in. ‘Code 314- Indecent Exposure’ “I’m not gonna finish filling this out.”

“I’m sure Steve will appreciate that. He’d be the talk of the country club.” Billy suspects that’s not a gift to Steve, though. For a cop, Hopper is okay. He’s let Billy off with 14 warnings for speeding so far. Neil has gotten 2 speeding tickets and had his car towed for illegal parking. 

“So you’re going to tell me what the hell happened and why it was a bad idea.” Hopper pulls the sheet free and crumbles it into a ball, tossing it into the trash can. “Then I can tick off the little box in my conscience that says you won’t do it again and we can all go home.”

Billy rolls his eyes. Jesus, he’s never going to be able to look Hopper in the eye again. “Come on, man. Didn’t Steve tell you?”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“Steve wasn’t lying. We really weren’t having sex in the middle of the woods. We were… look, I know it sounds like a lie, but we were… it was like therapy.”

Hopper’s eye twitches a little. “Police observation evidence would suggest otherwise.”

“I know what it looked like, but admit it. You can’t actually say you saw any dicks,” Billy pushes. 

“Just… tell me what you two were doing out there,” Hopper sighs. 

“What are any teenagers doing out there? You know what that spot is for.” Billy sighs and sits back in his chair. “But if you really want the gory details…”

* * *

_“Would you stop wiggling?” Billy leans down and grabs the bottle of lube he shoved under the driver’s seat and flips the cap open._

_“I’m not wiggling,” Steve huffs, wiggling to try and… do something? Billy isn’t sure because it’s the back seat of the Camaro. There’s pretty much no room, and Steve sure as hell isn’t gonna find more by squirming. He’s just gonna make things harder._

_Billy pauses and pinches Steve’s thigh, hard enough to get a hiss out of him. “Fucking hold still. I’m gonna make a goddamn mess all over the backseat if I have to try and catch you after I put this stuff on my fingers.”_

_Steve rolls his eyes, but he makes a ‘go on’ motion with his hand and then tucks an arm under his head. Billy grabs Steve’s ankle and braces it on his own shoulder. Steve squirms and drops it, hooking it around his waist instead._

_“Harrington. I’m not gonna guess where your asshole is, asshole. Not when it’s my seats under your ass. Work with me here.”_

_Steve groans unhappily but lets Billy hook an arm under his knee and haul his leg back up. “It’s too small back here.”_

_“Yeah, I know it’s fucking small, Princess. It’s the back of a fucking muscle car. Who’s fault is it that we can’t use your house?”_

_Steve’s face twinges a little. Fuck. Billy has his dick out, he’s hard, he’s got his boyfriend naked from the waist down, and now Harrington is gonna fondle his conscience. It works because yeah, that was probably a little below the belt._

_“Sorry, babe. It’s the blue balls talking. When’s the last time we went a week without fucking?” He leans in to press an apology kiss to Steve’s lips, until Steve whines. He actually whines, long and pitiful, and grabs Billy’s shoulder._

_“Too far. Bending it too far.”_

_Billy drops his eyes to the very naked leg braced against his shoulder. “What? I’ve practically had you bent in half before.”_

* * *

“Okay, stop. Stop!” Hopper waves his hands, looking a little pallid in his desk lamp. “That’s way more information than I needed.”

“You asked what we were doing up there,” Billy points out. “We were trying to fuck in my car. Like every other couple that parks up there.”

“But you weren’t in your car.” Hopper taps his desk emphatically. “There’s a fine line, Hargrove. Stay in your car and you’re fine.”

“We would have if Steve had followed his stupid recovery regimen like he was supposed to!”

“Recovery for what?” Hopper takes a breath, holding up his hands. Billy really should let that Byers woman know that this guy tries to follow her advice. “Just… go back to where this all started.”

“You’re the boss.”

* * *

_“Practicing late again, Harrington?” Billy asks, glancing over as Steve comes into the showers. It’s just the two of them at this hour, and it’s been a good few days since he really ragged on him properly. How convenient. Steve just glares at him and dips his head under the water. “Ever thought about maybe just being good at the game?”_

_“Ever thought about shutting up, Hargrove? I hear it works wonders for people with your condition.”_

_Billy grins, holding his tongue between his teeth. That pisses Steve off endlessly. “My condition? Go on, gimme the punchline.”_

_“Being an asshole.”_

_“Someone is feisty today. Did—”_

* * *

“No. No, not where you two started,” Hopper interrupts him. “Skip ahead to where this incident started.”

“Oh.” Billy shrugs. “Okay. It was the end of basketball season and we celebrated by me fucking Steve until he couldn’t walk straight.” He ignores Hopper’s heavy sigh. “Literally, too. But then the coach made us do hurdles the day after. That’s where it all kind of went downhill.”

* * *

_Billy knows before Tommy even starts jeering that Steve is hurt. He lays there a second too long in the red dust of the track, the fallen hurdle tangled between his legs. Billy can tell that asshole is trying to figure out how to get up without looking hurt, because that’s the shit Harrington worries about. Sighing, he ‘accidentally’ slams his elbow back into Tommy’s stomach as he chucks his water cup into the trash before jogging out onto the track._

_“Regular gym class hero, aren’t you?” he mutters, hooking his hands under Steve’s armpits and hauling him to his feet._

_“I’m fine,” Steve protests while trying not to put weight on his right leg. It’s a sort of pained hopping that’s not very convincing of being fine._

_“Yeah, you look totally great.” Billy pulls Steve’s arm around his shoulders and waves to the coach. “Hey! I’m taking Harrington to the nurse!” he calls, and doesn’t pause to wait for a hall pass or whatever. He’s got Steve hopping around like the hurt asshole he is. That’s better than any hall pass out there as far as permission goes._

_Billy is surprised that when he dumps Steve onto the bed in the nurse’s station, he makes another pained noise and shifts to lay down. Then shifts again onto his side._

_“What hurts?” he asks, sitting on the low, plastic stool that’s always by the wall. He figured they had an ankle or knee issue here, but that didn’t seem right._

_Steve rest a hand on his right leg. “Thigh. Something in the back of it.”_

_“Sounds like a hamstring injury,” Nurse Agnes says, bustling in and jamming a thermometer into Steve’s mouth. Nothing like a fever to pull a hamstring, Billy guesses. “Which leg, Mr. Harrington?”_

_“Right,” Steve mumbles around the thermometer._

_“Don’t talk,” she huffs._

_“But you asked me—”_

_“On your back, Mr. Harrington.”_

_Steve grunts and shifts onto his back, looking over at Billy for solidarity. Billy just grins and splays his legs further on his stool, kicking one leg up to brace on the side of the infirmary desk. Steve turns the same shade of red he gets after a good hour in practice. He makes a vague swatting motion that probably means ‘stop it’ but he sure doesn’t look away. Billy just runs his tongue over his teeth at him, getting the red to turn two shades darker._

_Agnes’s diagnostic technique appears to be trying to shove Steve’s leg up towards his chest and seeing when he starts making pained sounds. Then she whips the thermometer out of his mouth and sweeps out of the room, tutting and shaking the thermometer and muttering about Steve running too warm._

_“I was in PE,” Steve calls after her, grabbing the pillow out from under his head and chucking it at Billy. “Asshole,” he hisses._

_“Can’t help it. Kinda hot watching you get fondled by a sixty-something old woman,” Billy teases, tucking the pillow between his own head and the wall. “Thought she was gonna mount you any second.”_

_“Me too,” Steve admits, dropping his head back down on the stripe of sanitary paper on the bed. “It was terrifying.”_

* * *

“The official diagnosis was ‘hamstring injury and a mild fever, young man.’” Billy says, leaning on the heel of his hand as best he can while he’s handcuffed. “She put him on ice for 20 minutes, gave him some cheesy printout about stretches, and told him to give it a few weeks to heal.”

Hopper unlocks Billy from the cuffs, and then unlocks them from the chair as well, securing them back to his belt. Billy has the vague urge to get up and walk out just because he technically can and that’s his normal response to authority. He does have the good sense not to piss off one of the few okay adults in Hawkins, though, and not to ditch his boyfriend at the police station. 

“Right. So Steve hurts himself and you just… forgot?” Hopper raises his eyebrows. “I’m sure you’re a more considerate boyfriend than that.”

Billy raises his eyebrows right back. “Based on… what?”

“Call it a hunch.”

Billy sighs and rubs his wrist. “Whatever you say, man. Anyway, that was over a month ago. I forgot about it once he was allowed back into the normal classes at gym. See, we don’t usually fuck in my car. Steve’s shitty parents are usually out of town. I thought the guy was secretly an orphan for a solid month after I met him because they were never around…”

* * *

_“Why the fuck are your parents here for so long?” Billy groans, sitting low in the driver’s seat of the parked Camaro, letting his head loll out the window while he smokes a cigarette._

_Steve lights his own cigarette and rolls the passenger side window down. “For my birthday.”_

_Billy frowns and raises his aviator sunglasses, glancing across the car. “It’s not your birthday.”_

_“I know. But next month there’s a conference in Tokyo or something.” Steve blows a mouthful of smoke out of the car._

_“Okay, but… next month isn’t your birthday either.”_

_“I know.”_

_Billy thinks about also pointing out that since they’ve been home, they don’t appear to actually be doing anything with Steve. He and Billy spend all their time in Billy’s car, complaining about not having a parent-free place for sex anymore. But he figures Steve realizes that already too._

_“Can’t believe we’re reduced to car sex at the local make-out point,” Billy sighs instead. “Surrounded by the other horny masses.”_

_Steve looks out the window. It’s turning dusky already, and making it hard to see the other cars parked among the trees. Pretty soon it’ll be too dark to see any of them, until they finish doing the deed and turn on the headlights to drive away, one by one. “We could always wait for my parents to leave. Might be another few weeks though.”_

_Billy stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Get in the back seat and get your pants off, Princess.”_

* * *

“Skip the sex part,” Hopper interrupts him. “I don’t need to hear that again. Just skip to the part I drove up to.”

“Okay, so remember that stupid little care sheet the nurse gave Steve?” Billy shoots a glare at the closed door of the interrogation room. “Guess who didn’t do any of his stupid fucking stretching exercises?”

* * *

_Billy kind of hates his life right now. And his boyfriend. His boyfriend who has probably locked his fucking hamstring up because he thought sitting on ice for two goddamn days was as good as actually stretching._

_“You’re the worst fucking athlete in the world,” he growls, grabbing Steve’s leg by the knee, kneeling in between his legs with their hips wedged together. It manages to be completely unsexy because Steve is an asshole, though. Billy is kind of mad at his own dick for staying hard through all of this._

_“Oh fuck you. You don’t get to talk when you’re having the stupidest overreaction in the world,” Steve snaps, gesturing around vaguely from where he’s laying in the grass in his t-shirt and boxers. “Everyone is probably watching us.”_

_“Everyone is probably fucking because they didn’t fuck up their leg as soon as their sport season was over.” Billy sets a hand along the back of Steve’s thigh and leans his weight in gradually. “So now I get to fucking play physical therapist with your ass until it loosens back up.”_

_Steve hisses at the slow stretch when his thigh is barely past vertical. “My ass is fine, thank you.”_

_“Not if I can’t get my fingers into it, it’s not. It’s useless. Your ass is useless right now, Harrington.”_

* * *

“Okay.” Hopper taps the desk like he’s surrendering a wrestling match. “Okay. That’s where I came by on my sweep. We’re done here. Just… stop talking. And do that in the gym from now on. Wearing more than just your underwear.”

Billy stands up and stretches. “Told you Steve was telling you the truth. Can I have him back now?”

Hopper gets up from his desk and grabs his hat. “Steve didn’t tell me anything.”

Billy blinks at Hopper’s back. Now there was a surprise. 

Hopper opens the door to the interrogation room, spilling yellow light out onto the floor. Billy can hear Steve’s voice inside. 

“Unless you’re here to give me that phone call, we have nothing to talk about.”

There’s a heavy sigh from Hopper and the sound of cuffs being unlocked. “Please get out and go home.”

Steve steps out of the interrogation room, blinking around at the dark interior and rubbing his wrists. “Billy!” He scrambles over and grabs Billy’s arm. “I didn’t say anything. If Hopper said I did, he was lying. I never sold you out.”

“You can’t sell me out when we actually didn’t do anything wrong,” Billy sighs, resting a hand on Steve’s head and turning him towards the door. “But thanks. Come on, Princess. I’ll take you home before the phone here rings and it’s your mom.”

Hopper shuts the station door firmly behind them.


End file.
